


i got stamina

by Le_Tournesol



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1, Angst, Anxiety, Cuddles, Fainting, Fluff, Foster Care, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Keith!whump, Keithtober, Keith’s Birthday, Lance is a good boyfriend, M/M, Naxzela, Other, Panic Attacks, Passing Out, Team as Family, Whumptober, broganes, kangst, keith!angst, kwmonth, more tags to come, orphan!Keith, sick, sick!keith, sleepy keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-23 12:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 13,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16158689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_Tournesol/pseuds/Le_Tournesol
Summary: Drabbles, snippets, and oneshots in response to koganewest and callaedae3’s Keithtober/Whumptober challenge.





	1. Naxzela

**Author's Note:**

> lol I have been trying to find time to post this for like twelve hours, which is just more proof that October is super busy but oh my gosh I wanna be part of this sooooo bad!

“You’re too much like us,” his father told him when he was four years old and toddled back from the playground without his coat. 

“He didn’t have a jacket, daddy. He cold,” Keith explained. “I giveded him mine.” 

“Gave, Keith,” his father corrected. “And aren’t you cold, son?”

Keith shrugged and flashed a toothy grin, “M’okay. We don’t gotta walk far.”

His dad laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately. 

And then he’d said it:  _ You’re too much like us _ .

Inwardly, Keith was pleased. He wanted to be just like his dad after all, and this sounded like the highest compliment, even if his dad looked a little sad as he said it. 

Truthfully, he didn’t understand the somewhat troubled, wistful expression as a child, but it starts to make more sense as he grips the controls in his fists and listens to the chatter over the comms. 

It’s odd that this memory would surface, he thinks. Isn’t his life supposed to flash before his eyes? 

“Wait! Keith! What are you doing? Keith! No!” Matt shouts, but Keith ignores him in favor of the handful of arbitrary recollections of his past. 

“Couldn’t tell him anything,” Keith remembers mentioning to Shiro shortly after they met. 

Shiro had glanced at him and said, “Sounds like someone I know.”

Keith managed to hold his tongue that day. 

His dad was a hero. 

Keith was a fuck up. 

His dad’s impulsive decisions saved lives. 

Keith’s just ruined them. 

But, he thinks, maybe there was some truth to Shiro’s words. 

No, he still doesn’t feel like a hero. He doesn’t feel like his life is worth enough to make up for all the shit he’s pulled over the years. This is penance more than valor, or it might just be insignificance. 

Nonetheless, he can see the glimmer of similarity like the stars glittering in this galaxy. 

Because this is an easy choice, and Matt’s pleas in no way deter him. 

Keith closes his eyes and thinks of that puffy coat, and the way his dad bundled him into his own jacket and carried him home that day. 

He wonders what it was like to run into a burning building with the knowledge you may never come back out again. 

He figures it feels a lot like flying a fighter jet into an impenetrable shield.


	2. Trials of Marmora

_ You never learn.  _

Unbidden, the words swim to the surface and float as if to entice him into examining them at his leisure. Light filters through the water and distorts them, or maybe it’s just the faulty lens of memory that ruins the sound quality. 

To be fair, he might just be concussed.

He figures he should probably get up off the floor, but he feels like every ounce of strength has been sapped from him. Listless, aimless, timeless, he drifts in the in-between with his cheek pressed to the cold tile. 

It’s hard to breathe in this position. His ribs feel bruised or cracked or broken, and they don’t want to expand correctly even without the added obstacle that the ground presents beneath his chest. His jaw throbs, his abdomen protests, and his arm is strangely numb. 

Really, his foster mother was right all those years ago when she dabbed at his split lip, a gift from her sot of a husband. She tried to protect him from the world in her own twisted way, and Keith imagined she was tired of being so alone in that house.  _ Keep your head down _ , she insisted, but he couldn’t manage it.  _ Don’t talk back _ , she added,  _ and mind your own business.  _ She tried to teach him over the course of the three months he was in her care. They weren’t easy lessons for a seven year-old, and he already had a reputation for a defiant, stubborn streak.  _ Don’t ask questions,  _ she advised, but they left his mouth invariably. Deciding he was a lost cause for the last one, she modified her statement,  _ Don’t ask the question if you don’t want to know the answer.  _

He didn’t learn, though.

His years in the system were characterized by group homes, bruises, expulsions, broken bones, labels, and anger. It wasn’t always bad, but it wasn’t always good.

His mouth tended to run away with itself, and his fists tended to follow through when it came down to it. 

_ You can’t tell this kid anything,  _ one foster parent complained to his social worker when they thought he wasn’t listening. 

He could admit they had a point. 

He probably wouldn’t be in such shitty shape if he had just listened to his opponents about the doors, but he was used to the expectation of fighting his way through. 

_ Fuck _ .

Everything hurts.

He closes his eyes and thinks about what this means for him. It didn’t matter that the knife transformed midway through the trials; it wasn’t like he could fully process what it meant then anyway. 

He’s  _ galra _ . 

No, he couldn’t just be an unwanted orphan, a child too difficult to love. He had to be an alien, and one whose species was the greatest threat the universe had ever known. 

The information isn’t sinking in somehow. 

He wanted answers, but this tells him so little and just creates more questions.

_It’s true_ , he thinks just before he passes out,  _ I never learn. _


	3. Orphan

“You  _ have _ to meet my twin sister Rachel,” Lance insists one evening while they’re all gathered in the common area, “I mean, when we get back to Earth.” 

“There are two of you? I’ll have to pass,” Pidge dismisses with a wave of her hand. “One Lance is enough for me.” 

Lance laughs and doesn’t seem affected or deterred by her comment. With a grin, he admits, “That’s fair. We are an unstoppable combination. We got banned from the three-legged race in elementary school because no one else ever won. Ever.” It’s a silly victory, but there’s pride in his eyes as he enunciates, “Unbeatable.” He claps Hunk on the back, “Right, buddy?”

Hunk nods, “They’re scary.” 

“Scary good-looking,” Lance corrects. “But that’s just an Espinosa thing. Like, Marco totally put himself through vet school with the money he made off his modeling contracts. Oh! Which reminds me, we’re geniuses too, Pidge! Veronica is an engineer, and Luis is an architect.”

Pidge rolls her eyes good-naturedly, “I don’t even know what to do with some of this information.” 

“You’re just jealous because I’ve got great stories,” Lance announces. “Everyone already knows about your family. They’re only leading the field of intergalactic travel.” 

“Ah, yes, that’s true, but have you heard about the grilled cheese Matt tried to mutate in his room as a science experiment?”

Lance snorts, and Hunk guffaws as he remembers Pidge’s account of the events.

Pidge rehashes it to the amusement of the group, and everyone joins in with their own questions or anecdotes. 

It’s Hunk who realizes that Keith seems to be listening, but he isn’t actually adding anything to the conversation. Hunk frowns. He knows Keith isn’t the most outgoing guy, and he doesn’t often seem interested in their company, but Hunk figures this could be a good time to draw in their resident loner. 

When Pidge tips to the ground clutching her stomach as she cracks up, Hunk wipes a stray tear from his eye and waits for the inevitable lull. 

He nudges Keith with an elbow to get his attention, and the red paladin tenses in response and eyes him warily, “What?”

“What about you, man? Got any siblings? Or classic family stories to share?”

Pidge and Lance look expectant, but their expressions shift as Keith’s posture reflects his discomfort. 

“Oh, um,” Keith mumbles. “I don’t think I do? I mean, it’s possible. I don’t really know. I guess my mom could have other kids? I never really considered it...” 

Belatedly, Hunk remembers that they found Keith living alone in a shack in the desert, which isn’t exactly a typical arrangement for minors. 

“I had foster siblings sometimes,” Keith hedges. He looks unsure, like he’s trying to gauge their reactions. 

Hunk blinks. He didn’t know Keith came up in the system, but it made sense. 

“Wait, didn’t that shack belong to your dad or something? You had his clothes there, right? You gave them to Shiro,” Pidge wonders aloud. It’s not an aggressive question. It sounds like she’s trying to piece together the information with what she already knew to get a more complete picture. 

“Yeah,” Keith mumbles, but he offers no further details.

Hunk doesn’t blame him. They’ve only been in space for a few weeks, and it’s a pretty intimate thing to share. Sure, the mindmeld had revealed a few unsavory feelings, but it wasn’t a complete guide to a person’s life. This is a pretty big thing to share. 

Hunk can’t really imagine a life without his supportive, boisterous family, and he thinks the others feel the same. 

Keith’s expression is still a little guarded, and Hunk longs to put him at ease. It’s probably too soon to say that they would be his family, so he keeps it to himself for now. 

He shares one more story about his brother’s first date before smoothly changing the subject to something that Keith might find more interesting in order to coax their cagiest paladin into the conversation. 

After all, Hunk can’t just say they’re a family. He’s sure Keith’s heard that line, and Keith’s more of an  _ actions _ sort of guy anyway.

“I still can’t believe you drove us off a cliff, Keith,” Hunk segways. He make a self-deprecating comment, and everyone laughs. “Seriously. Where’d you learn to drive, dude?” 

Hesitant, a shy smile works its way onto Keith’s face before he answers. 

And soon they’re all laughing so hard that Lance actually slaps his own knee, which makes Keith laugh harder.  

_ Yeah _ , Hunk thinks,  _ It’s better to show him.  _


	4. Garrison

Shiro picks Keith up at the group home the day the dorms at the Garrison open for the new term. The whole of his belongings fit into a tattered old backpack that he sits next to on the concrete steps. He’d learned to travel lightly over the years, but now something about the threadbare thing strikes him as underwhelming. 

Sucking on his teeth as he stares into the distance, he feels about as alive as his possessions. 

This is supposed to be his chance for a brighter future. The opportunity that will keep him off the streets and out of jail. 

_ This once-in-a-lifetime, Keith _ , his social worker had explained.  _ It’s your lucky break.  _

He snorted at her words. 

He’s had plenty of lucky breaks. 

_ Lucky it was just your arm. _

_ Lucky I didn’t break your neck. _

No, he has no intentions of getting his hopes up. Shiro might be excited, but Keith knows better. Shiro told the social worker that Keith was a  _ prodigy _ , and she looked just as thunderstruck as Keith at the words. They’d even shared a skeptical, sardonic glance, like they were both equally surprised by the descriptor. 

If one of the group home directors, his teachers, or some of his previous foster parents had heard him, Keith was sure they would’ve laughed Shiro out of the room. 

Regardless, there were too many mouths in the overburdened system, and nobody was going to adopt a teenager, especially one with Keith’s record. It made the most economic sense to drop him off at the nearest base that would take him. He’d still be a ward of the state, but at least they didn’t have to scrape up more funds in their budget to feed him. 

_ C’mon, Keith _ , the social worker cajoled as she adjusted her glasses,  _ We both know the likelihood of another family petitioning to foster you. At least you’ll be out of the home.  _

Keith sighs.

He still can’t believe it’s happening. 

The case worker offered to get him herself, but Shiro said he wanted the honor. 

Honestly, he said it with a  _ smile _ , which Keith thought was weird. 

He scowls as the sun beats down on the pale skin of his neck. He’ll probably burn, but he doesn’t want to spend another minute on his old cot in the cramped third bedroom. It’s somehow a little easier to breathe out here, and it makes thinking less frustrating.

Keith’s gaze wanders to the dirt road that will take him to his next destination. 

He chews his lip and wonders why he’d agreed. 

Shiro is persistent, but he’ll lose interest once Keith puts on his new, polished uniform. He’ll have done his job, and he can pat himself on the back, too: He didn’t just find a new recruit; he’d saved an orphan from a life of crime and a bleak future.

The feeling wears off, and Keith gets tossed aside like an old pair of shoes.

_ It’s not the first time _ , he reminds himself.  _ It won’t be the last.  _


	5. Kerberos

They throw him out on his ass. 

Well, they’re going to throw him out on his ass when his social worker is available to pick him up. They’d called Ms. Lewis and put her on speaker as soon as they dragged him into the disciplinary office, and they demanded she come immediately. They failed to account for the overtaxed system. 

“I can be there tomorrow at eight at the earliest,” Ms. Lewis explained. Frustrated by her response, they tried to fish for a different caseworker to tote him away. “Mmm, I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”

The Garrison officers may be hardened and stern, but they’ve got nothing on a seasoned social worker like Deborah Lewis.

By the time the call ended, they’d agreed upon her chosen time and had a plan for the next sixteen hours or Keith’s life. 

With eight hours to go, he sits alone in a holding cell with nothing but his freshly blacked eye to keep him company. 

His skin feels like it’s singing, like it’s vibrating into a hum. Everything feels sharp and intense, and it’s both grounding and upsetting. He feels like he can hear his heart pounding.

It’s a stark contrast to the previous month.

His dorm room was in shambles by the time Keith was finished with it. He’d had to learn about  _ it _ from the news, which leaked the story before the Garrison even had a chance to tell Shiro’s next-of-kin. 

It felt like he blacked out. 

And he never really woke up.

Adam found him standing in the middle of his ruined room. His brown eyes were misty, and he wrapped Keith in a hug that made him sob when he finally stilled. It was ugly crying. Thick, wet coughing and hot tears, the two ended up in the floor by the time Keith cried himself out.

Catatonic, Keith quieted until he became apathetic, and then the dissociative feeling never faded away as he went through the motions. 

By rote, he ate, attended classes, completed his assignments, and went about his day. He stood at Adam’s side during the funeral, and then he’d gone back to his room alone and went to bed.

The garrison’s psychologist was worried, but Keith remained unchanged until that very morning.

“The Kerberos mission failed due to pilot error,” the officer announced over breakfast in the mess hall.

And then everything was disjointed and fragmented and off, like someone had skipped scenes of his life with important dialogue and plot information. 

The officer concisely explained Captain Shirogane’s mistakes to the room and insisted it led to the failure of the mission. 

Keith saw red. 

_ It’s a lie.  _

Keith yelled. 

“Remember your place, cadet.”

“Keith, shut up!”

_ You’re fucking lying.  _

_ “ _ You will not speak to me in this manner! Get out of my sight! I’ll have you scrubbing toilets for a year!”

_ Fuck you! Tell the fucking truth, you coward.  _

“Somebody get him out of here!”

_ No!  _ No _! I’m going anywhere until you tell everyone what really fucking happened.  _

_ “ _ What is wrong with you? Are you too stupid to understand the phrase  _ pilot error, _ or are you just fucking crazy? You’re out of here, you worthless shit. Good fucking riddance.”

Apparently, Keith punched him so hard that he dislocated his jaw. 

It had taken four people to pull him off his superior officer and cart him off to his punishment, and his face intercepted a stray elbow at some point or another in the process. 

His adrenaline was too high at the time to really feel it, but now it throbs with persistence.

But this is the first time he’s felt alive since the Garrison lost the connection to the Kerberos mission. 

The fight that’s always been in him rises up with renewed fervor to light his path. 

He will get answers. 

Because Shiro is  _ alive _ . 

Keith knows it like he knows his own name, but he also knows that going back into the system will just impede his task. 

As the guards outside his door shift, Keith uses the sound of their footsteps and light conversation to cover the noise the grate makes when he removes it from the wall. With seven hours left at the Garrison, he pockets the tool and shimmies his way into the small duct and chases the spark of promise that’s burning within him. 

It doesn’t take much effort to get out of the building and off the property, and he slinks away under the cover of night. 

It’s a slow trek enough the desert on foot, but Keith thinks he could find his way back even if he were unconscious. 

When the horizon starts to brighten in small, fluid increments, Keith crests the last hill.

The sun rises over the lone shack in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who’s read, left kudos, or commented so far. They mean a lot to me! I promise I will respond to all of them. Things have just been busy :) <3


	6. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite. Feels rushed. Didn’t have time to fix it.  
> Experimental narrative-ish.  
> Went with a collective prounouns for the mindmeld. Kind of let it run together because I imagined that shit would be confusing. 
> 
> Anyway! Enjoy!

Unable to contain her enthusiasm, Allura claps her hands in front of her before she announces, “Today we’re going to work with both the bond with our lions and the bond with one another.” 

The response is a collective groan of relief. Between their skirmishes with the Galra and the grueling training, they could use a break. 

Lance makes grabby hands when Allura reveals the mindmeld helmets, and he sticks his on his head and plops down on the floor without a second thought. A goofy grin spreads over his face, “Let’s get bonding.” Pidge steps too close to him, and he tugs her down in the empty space next to him. She shoots him a wry look but doesn’t complain. Keith settles to Lance’s right. Hunk sits to Keith’s left and Shiro’s right. 

“Okay,” Allura states. “Each Lion represents an element, and the Lions selected each of you based on your natural affinity for the element. Today we’re going to explore the connection.” 

Keith’s expressions becomes wary, but it’s lost in Lance’s joyful demand to go first. 

Allura gives him and indulgent smile, and then they’re absorbed into Lance’s memories and affectionate feelings for water. 

The sun shines and rich laughter fills the warm air. The sand is damp beneath their feet, and they take off toward the water with unrestrained vigor. Leaping into an upcoming wave, they submerge themselves. Powerful strokes carry them deeper into the sea, and then they glance skyward. Everything is distant and muted and distorted  in the best way, and the light that filters through is somehow bright and soft. The ocean cradles them, and the tide rocks them the same way a mother would comfort her child. It’s full of peace and vitality. When they surface, they lay on their back and let the water carry them to its content. The sun feels hot on their skin. 

They exist.

It shifts. 

Little moments race through their shared consciousness. They win their race at the national swim meet. They splash their sobrinos in the pool. They attend a party on the beach and then a bonfire. 

They flicker by at speeds that only their unconscious brain can interpret.

They jump off the pier at sunset.

Everyone blinks as they return to present. 

“Excellent, Lance! How about Shiro now?”

Shiro’s turn largely consists of images of the night sky as they lie on their back in the grass with their mother. They name constellations and search for planets. There’s a birthday, and they unwrap a new telescope. They see a space shuttle launch on TV. There’s an ad for the Galaxy Garrison. They soar, up, up, up, and everything is free and vast and endless.

When they finish, Allura decides Keith should go next since he’s the right hand of Voltron. 

And then everything goes to shit.

Keith has no idea what to show them. Red’s element may be fire, but Keith doesn’t understand how someone can be connected to it. All that comes to mind is a pyromania. 

And arson. 

_ Fuck _ . 

The fire is broadcast on the news in the diner where they wait for their dad to pick them up after school. They recognize the team responding to the blaze. It’s their father’s unit. It’s a five alarm fire, and they’re calling in reinforcements from the surrounding counties. 

Flames lick the sky and threaten nearby properties. They watch with bated breath as the building collapses.

And they wait. 

And wait.

And wait. 

The owner calls the police. 

Too busy trying to deal with the aftermath of the disaster, nobody shows up for awhile. 

The owner lets them sit behind the counter. 

Two cars pull up. A policeman walks in. A slender woman with red hair follows him through the glass door. The bell chimes when it closes. 

The policeman talks to the owner. 

The woman crouches to their level, “Are you Keith Kogane?”

“Yes,” they answer. “Why? Who are you?”

They know they aren’t supposed to talk to strangers, but she is with a cop. 

“My name is Deborah Lewis,” she answers. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Keith, but everything is going to be okay.”

_ Pain _ . 

Fire, licking his foot and agony climbing his ankle. Hot and burning and everywhere and he can’t get away. 

_ Your dad was a real hero, son. _

_ He keeps running off.  _

_ Get in the car, Keith. _

_ Stop him! Grab him. _

_ Oh, Keith, why did you come here? _

They stand before charred remains of what they know was once a building. It’s a husk now. Steel rods, splintered wood, and broken brick litter the ground. 

Everything is blackened, and the blackness takes everything from them and then sucks them in too. 

It’s dark and awful and lonely and it  _ hurts _ . 

The fire burns them up and leaves them damaged beyond repair. It  _ must _ because  _ nobody wants them/him/them/HIM _ . 

The intensity of their feelings rekindle the embers. 

It’s a lifetime of burning and going out and burning and going out and  _ he _ just wants it to stop  _ he _ doesn’t care how it can have him cinders in the wind just  _ maybe he died to get away from you  _ make it stop make it stop  _ you gonna fight back punk  _ make it  _ you destroy everything don’t you  _ stop make it stop  _ what a waste _ stop make it stop stop stop stop -

  
  
  


It stops. 

Pidge’s helmet lands somewhere across the room, and it ends the exercise. 

When Keith opens his eyes, the others stare at him in horror. Hunk looks queasy, Shiro is pale, and Lance pants like he just finished a marathon. 

_ Shit. _

Keith is on his feet before anyone is able to awaken from their stupor.

He’s out the door before anyone can say his name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So toward the end their Keith is getting all metaphorical or whatever and fighting the collective conciousness? 
> 
> Anyway. Happy Saturday, everyone!!


	7. Nightmare

Jerky movements to his left wake Lance in the middle of the night. Grumbling, Lance rolls over onto his side with the intention of poking his shitty cellmate in an effort to make his displeasure known. 

Wasn’t it bad enough he’d been captured by a planet with secret ties to the Galra Empire? Did he have to get caught with Keith? 

Lance feels a little bad, but he’s exhausted and Keith’s fidgeting is keeping him up. The little noises the smaller teen makes aren’t exactly helping either. 

Lance frowns.

_ Wait _ , he thinks,  _ Does Keith talk in his sleep?  _

It’s funny and exciting for all of fifteen ticks. Then Lance realizes that these are sounds of distress, and that Keith is pleading with someone or something to  _ stop please stop. _

_ Nightmare _ , Lance decides,  _ shit _ . 

“Keith,” Lance whispers in an attempt to wake him. He reaches out a hand to place on the red paladin’s shoulder to shake him awake. He feels Keith’s warm skin under his palm and then -

“Fuck, Keith, ow, what the fuck?” 

Lance clutches his bloodied nose and gasps. 

Keith was sound asleep! How did he manage to move quickly enough to break his fucking nose? 

Lance squints around the pain and ignores the tears clouding his vision. 

Now sitting up on his elbows, Keith blinks at him. 

“Lance? What happened?” 

Indignant, Lance huffs, “You tell me!”

Keith’s gaze drops from Lance’s bloody face to his own damaged knuckles.

Lance can see the exact moment that Keith makes the connection because he turns an alarming shade of white. 

“Shit,” Keith’s violet eyes are wide and frightened, and they’re glassy with horror, “Fuck. Shit. I didn’t mean... I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.” 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Lance placates in an attempt to get the situation back under control. “It’s okay.”

Lance lifts a hand to comfort the upset teen across from him, and Keith flinches in response. 

Hard.

“Shit,” Keith whispers. “Shit. Fuck. Sorry.” 

_ Oh,  _ Lance thinks,  _ oh.  _

And Keith just looks even more torn up. 

“Hey,” Lance tries to soothe, but his voice is too thick with the blood running down his throat. “It’s okay. It was an accident. I’m fine. Keith. Look at me.”

Hesitant, Keith turns his gaze on Lance and bites his lip.

“See? I’m fine. Nothing a healing pod can’t fix. I’ll be beautiful again in no time,” Lance jokes, but his then he’s solemn again, “Are you okay, man? D’y’wanna talk about it?”

“No. M’fine,” Keith says hoarsely, but it runs hollow. 

“Okay,” Lance accepts without pressing.

Keith gives him a grateful nod, but the pinched expression doesn’t fade away until their captors return the following morning.

Keith doesn’t sleep again.

And Lance knows because he didn’t either. 


	8. Kral Zera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exactly 100 words.

“Knowledge or death,” Kolivan reminds him. He drops a hand on Keith’s shoulder to drive the point home. With a nod, he finishes his lecture and stalks off to speak with Allura.

Keith stares at his retreating back in silence.

The reprimand is clear. Yes, he succeeded, but he must remember his place. 

It’s his responsibility to lay down his life for the mission.

And he can do it. 

He has no delusions of grandeur. He is prepared to meet his fate. 

The mission is more important than the individual. 

He will die for it. 

But he won’t let Shiro. 


	9. Hostage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 words exactly

“Drop your weapon.”

In spite of the noise of battle, the command rings clear through the corridor. It’s so confident and unexpected that it startles Keith, and he fails to dodge his attacker and takes a knee to the gut. Instinctively, his body curls in on itself, but he refuses to collapse. His grip on his luxite blade never loosens.

“I said drop it!” the General repeats. Keith can’t see her from her position behind him, but he doesn’t miss the sharp cry of pain that punctuates the demand.

 _No_.

His stomach drops.

A blaster is pressed to Lance’s temple.


	10. Loner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 words

_Leave before you are left_ , Keith tells himself as he tugs on his Blade of Marmora uniform.

They have six paladins and five lions, and Keith’s no Hunk or Pidge, but he’s not stupid either. He knows how to solve this equation.

He learned the formula many years ago, and he committed it to memory. It’s the pop quiz he will never fail.

Lance is right about the math.

But Keith knows how to subtract.

He disappears on missions.

He doesn’t show up for meetings.

He lets them down.

But it’s okay. It was inevitable.

He’s better off alone anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg finding the time to write and post this today required more skill than i possess


	11. Abandonment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 words

Sometimes the Blade works alongside Voltron on missions. Strategically, Keith should’ve been the ideal liaison. Realistically, Keith’s pretty shitty at it, so Kolivan just goes straight to Allura.

It’s fine.

Unfortunately, the present circumstances aren’t fine.

The weapon on the galra base destabilizes with aplomb.

The building shudders around them and the walls will buckle soon.

“Go!” Keith commands when he assesses the situation, and his former team complies without hesitance.

“What about you!?” Lance demands over the comm link.

“Go!”

Keith missed his extraction; the Blade won’t return.

It’s fine.

At least this time he chose to be abandoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh if I’d had more time to write today I would’ve loved to have fearful Keith with comforting Lance. Maybe I’ll just have to pick this prompt up again later.


	12. Cryopod

Keith doesn’t check in.    
They have a system, but it’s useless if Keith doesn’t keep up his end of the bargain.   
Pidge proposed it shortly after Matt told her about what almost happened on Naxzela, and the rest of them managed to get Keith to agree.   
He should’ve called  _ yesterday _ . They were trying to give their former leader space, but this was ridiculous.   
Worried, Lance sprawls on the couch opposite Pidge and bites his lip. In an effort to ease the concerned feeling bubbling in his chest, he says, “Kolivan would’ve told us if something happened, right?”

Wrong, Lance discovers hours later.    
Kolivan apparently had a different definition of noteworthy.   
The residents of the Castle gather around the screen when Shiro can’t wait any longer. Kolivan seems surprised by their call.    
“Keith hasn’t checked in,” Shiro explains.   
Kolivan frowns, “He is indisposed.” 

“What does that mean?” Lance blurts before he can stop himself. 

Literal to a fault, Kolivan clarifies, “He is not currently available.” 

Lance scrubs a hand down his face, but Shiro cuts in before he can retort, “Why?”

Kolivan is saved from answering by Pidge’s sudden exclamation, “Shit! He’s been in a healing pod for a  _ week _ ? What the hell happened to him? Why didn’t anyone tell us?”

Keith had asked Pidge to stay out of the Blade’s network, and she’d acquiesced reluctantly. But circumstances render that agreement null. 

Lance’s mouth drops  open in horror, “What!?”

Pidge’s fingers are a blur over her keyboard as she hacks into the Blade’s system to get an idea of the pod’s reading, “ _ Sonofabitch _ . Why didn’t you tell us?”

“What?” Lance repeats. He looks between her and Kolivan.

“Keith’s entire left side was basically crushed, and he nearly bled out because shrapnel pierced his femoral artery. Shit, he  _ should’ve _ died. Fuck.”

“What happened?” Shiro demands.

“A building collapsed,” Kolivan states. “He was trapped under the rubble.” 

Pidge’s hands still and her eyes narrow. Her voice is dark, “He’s been in the healing pod five times in the last two months.”

Looking over her shoulder, Hunk reads the records and his heart sinks, “Why didn’t he say anything?”

“Idiot,” Pidge seethes without heat. “He’s an idiot. Why weren’t we  _ informed _ ?” The smallest member of Voltron turns her critical gaze on Kolivan, who insists it wasn’t worth mentioning. 

Pidge swears for the umpteenth time and demands that Shiro take them to Marmora base that currently houses Keith. 

“He shouldn’t wake up after all that  _ alone _ ,” Pidge asserts. The others nod, and Pidge adds, “And I want to punch him in his idiot face.”

The pod’s readings indicate that Keith will wake up in two days, and they make time in their schedule to be there.

But space wars don’t cooperate. 

And Keith wakes up alone anyway. 


	13. Discipline Case

Keith hates these conversations

He sits next to the entrance of the conference room in resigned silence. Even though the door is closed, he can hear the administration and his teachers discussing him.

It sets his teeth on edge.

It’s nothing he hasn’t heard already. He’d like to tune them out.

But his instincts force him to listen. They know the importance of information, and they demand the information to keep him alive.

He’s learned to assess danger and threats too well. Now he can’t turn it off.

“The boy’s just trouble,” the math teacher asserts. “The bad apple that will spoil the bunch.” There’s a pause before she continues, “We’ve all seen his permanent record. He doesn’t belong here.”

“The other kids _are_ afraid of him,” the music teacher adds softly. “He broke Luka’s nose last month.”

Keith wants to hunch in on himself, but he forces himself to stay in position.

“Where are his _parents_? This meeting was supposed to start ten minutes ago. I’ve got papers to grade,” the math teacher grumbles.

He snorts. Like anyone will come for him.

“What do we do if no one comes?” the music teacher asks. The music teacher is newer, Keith remembers, and they’re only two months into the new school year.

Keith already knows that a guardian doesn’t have to be present when these sorts of decisions are made about him.

“We continue without them,” the principal explains.

“It’s cut and dry,” the math teacher insists. “Kid’s just going to end up in jail anyway. Or worse.”

Keith clenches his fists and considers bolting. It’s not like he can get in _more_ trouble, and he doesn’t want to hear any more today.

“He needs to go,” the math teacher pronounces as he gets to his feet and casts a furtive look down the hall to make sure the coast is clear. Poised and quiet, he prepares to make his escape. But he hears one last exchange before he’s out of earshot.

Papers rustle, and the principal murmurs, “Oh, I’d forgotten. He’s in foster care. Wow. He’s... been to _a lot_ of homes already.”

The math teacher condemns him just before he slips away, “I’m not surprised.” Confident in her verdict, she sneers, “He’s a discipline case. Who could stand to have him around long?”

Keith’s eyes sting as he slips out the exit.

She’s right, he knows.

There’s ample evidence to support her opinion.

And, like he said, he’s heard it all already.  

Regardless, it’s still got the power to cut him to his very core and gut him where he stands. 

And he hates that the most.

 


	14. Desert

With the rising sun as the companion at his back, Keith pushes open the door to the rickety shack. The hinges creak in protest, and dust clouds up around his feet. 

The weak light of morning reveals the sparse furnishings and contents of the single room. 

He tries not to think of the last time he was here. 

Keith sighs and gets to work.

There’s nothing to unpack, so he goes straight for the tarp covering the generator. It needs a tune up, but he manages to get it working with the remaining fuel and the tools scattered about throughout the space. An ancient computer whirs to life and the sconces flicker lowly on the walls. Keiths turns on the tap on the kitchenette’s sink and waits. After about five minutes, water spurts from the spigot and then starts to flow. He lets it flush itself out while he takes stock of the cabinets. 

Batteries, flashlights, flares, a first aid kit, and a plethora of canned food line the shelves, but Keith reaches toward the very back for the coffee can where he knows his dad kept his emergency stash of money. 

There’s four hundred dollars cash in the bottom.

If he rations his supplies, it should be enough for him to get by for awhile.

He doesn’t imagine the state will look for him long, but he’ll have to keep his head down and avoid going into the nearest town for a few months. 

Keith spends the remainder of the day organizing materials, fixing up old appliances and dated technology, and generally puttering around the space. He patches a few holes in the roof and covers a broken window with cardboard. He shakes out the blankets and hangs them up to air out in the breeze. He removes the handful of little pests that had moved in while he was gone, and he tries to make plans to keep his makeshift homestead work indefinitely. 

But more than anything, he tries not to think.

He’s good at being alone, he reminds himself. 

Well, he amends, he was good at being alone until... 

And now he’s alone again. 

Keith lights a fire at twilight and stares up at the stars, where he studies the constellations and names them to himself. 

A solitary coyote howls at the moon, and a tumbleweed rolls along the sand. 

The sky unfurls endlessly above him, and the sense of loss and otherness soaks into his bones.

There is nowhere he belongs. 

There is no one to miss him. 

And he is alone with no end in sight.

 

 


	15. Last Words

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Shiro places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Keith worries his lip before he looks up at the Kerberos pilot. 

“Okay,” Keith says quietly. The soft thrum of the surrounding conversations would’ve concealed it all together if Shiro hadn’t been so focused on him. 

Shiro’s eyes crinkle with some unclear emotion, and Keith glances away. 

There are only a handful of people in this room. A few scientists and engineers, a couple of superior officers, and the ship’s crew and immediate family are standing in small pockets. Shiro and the Holts are already in their uniforms. Katie Holt is chattering away with her father about all the things he might see as her brother chuckles and her mother smiles warmly. 

Fuyoko and Lloyd, Shiro’s mom and stepdad, are off to the side with Shiro’s fiancée. They’d had to pull some strings to Keith there at all, so they were giving them space to say goodbye. 

The intercom chimes to inform them that the crew needs to begin boarding, and Keith returns his attention to Shiro.

“I...Can I...” Keith struggles to find the right words to say, “Um.”

Luckily, Shiro’s perceptive enough to figure him out. He opens his arms, and Keith surges forward into the hug.

“I’ll miss you,” Keith whispers fiercely.

“I’ll miss you too, little brother.” 

 


	16. Alien Planet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol this is just so random I don’t even know but I just ran with it bc it’s already like 1 pm my time.
> 
> Also what is medical accuracy?

“Nobody told me we were going to Planet Cotton Candy!” Lance exclaims as soon as he gets a good look at Trilla through the observation window in the pod. The world below them is made up of soft pastels and fluffy landscapes, and no one begrudges Lance his comparison, save for the Alteans, who don’t know anything about the Earthen dessert.

It’s odd, but it’s beautiful. 

Everyone crowds around the glass to get a good look, and even though Keith’s got his arms crossed in front of his chest, Lance can tell he’s interested in exploring this new planet. 

They drop through the equivalent of a cloud that appears to be made up of the same material as everything else, and Pidge gets a gleam in her eye as she rambles about samples and unique molecular structure. 

It only gets better when they land. 

Once Coran assures them that the matter is harmless, Lance leaps out the door with a  _ whoop _ and drops to the foamy ground. 

And he bounces! 

Like a fucking trampoline! 

“This is the best fucking planet ever!” Lance declares as he jumps. “Keith! I bet I can jump higher than you!”

“You’re on, sharpshooter!” Keith takes the bait and launches himself from the ship. 

True to their competitive tendencies, they’re soon daring one another into performing more ridiculous stunts. 

They carry on in this manner until they collide in midair and topple back to surface in a heap of tangled limbs. 

Lance isn’t even mad. 

He just laughs, and Keith joins in with gusto. 

Allura, who was unusually patient about their antics, take this as an opportunity to steer everyone back on course, “Okay, we need to place the beacon at 33 degrees latitude and 57 longitude. According to this map, we should be about a varga’s walk to our destination. I’ve not detected any forms of intelligent life, but we should still proceed with caution.” 

With those remarks, they fall into position and trudge toward the east. Conversation is light, and it’s too easy to goof off with the substance to avoid it. Lance mimes Neil Armstrong’s moonwalk, and Pidge can’t resist the urge to imitate it as well. Hunk takes a tuft of it and manipulates it until it looks like he has an enormous pale blue beard. He strokes it thoughtfully, which cracks Coran up and initiates some crazy story that only Allura can understand. Someone suggests rolling it up like ammunition for a snowball fight, but they decide to wait until they’ve set the beacon and gotten back to the ship.

“Dude, do you think we can take some of this with us?” Hunk wonders aloud as he starts using it to craft balloon animals.

“Should be safe,” Pidge assures as she reads a scan from the analyzer on her forearm. “Let’s fill up a room with it. We can  _ literally  _ bounce off the walls.” 

Even Shiro looks tempted by the idea. 

They joke and fool around in this vein until they laugh themselves out and fall into an easy, comfortable silence, which is only interrupted by Keith’s intermittent coughing. 

When they get to the correct location, Pidge, Hunk, and Coran work together to set up the beacon while the rest of them pair off to patrol. 

It’s more rote and precautionary than borne of a genuine fear of attack. Allura and Shiro go to the right; Keith and Lance go to the left. 

The latter spread out to survey their surroundings. Lance activates his bayard to look through the scope, but there’s nothing more than a sugary horizon. Lance returns his weapon to his side and turns to talk to Keith, “Think Allura will let us explore a bit after the others finish?”

Uncharacteristically distracted and scratching absently at his torso over his armor, Keith says, “Huh?”

Lance rolls his eyes and moves to rejoin his teammate. He’s about to repeat himself or tease Keith for not paying attention when he gets a good look at his partner’s flushed face.

“Uh, you feeling all right, man?” Lance asks.Keith shrugs and scratches the crook of his elbow. Lance frowns, “Maybe we should head back? You look like you’re getting sick or something.”

“M’fine,” Keith coughs and takes a breath. “Just itchy.”

Lance gets closer. Undaunted by the concept of personal space, Lance presses the glass of their helmets together and studies Keith.

From this distance, he can hear the way the air wheezes on Keith’s next strained inhale. 

His stomach drops, “Shit.” He opens the comm line, “Shit. Hey. We gotta go.”

Allura answers him, “Why? Is something wrong?”

Keith gives him a funny look, like Lance has lost his mind.  _ Tonto _ , Lance thinks,  _ You’re the one whose throat is closing up!  _

Lance grabs Keith by the hand and starts dragging him in the direction of the ship. Keith makes a noise of protest, but he doesn’t let go. 

“Lance?” Shiro prods.

“Um, yeah. Yes. I think Keith’s, like... allergic to the cotton candy?”

Lance glances backward just in time to see Keith realize the truth to his words. 

“Fuck,” Keith rasps.

“Yep,” Lance agrees just as Shiro exclaims, “What?”

Allura springs into action and insists Coran and she hurry to meet Lance and Keith at the ship for medical attention. 

Lance knows they need to move fast to cover all the ground between them, but Keith is winded and pale and splotchy and stumbles when they pick up the pace.

Without breaking his stride, Lance scoops Keith up into his arms and races through the pastel jungle. Keith’s head comes to rest against his shoulder, and Lance can hear him gasping at his ear. 

“I gotcha, buddy,” Lance reassures. Keith shudders, and Lance tightens his grip, “You’re gonna be fine. Just hang on.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Okay. I know I did something similar in right here next to you, buttttt that planet’s atmosphere was toxic. Keith’s just allergic to the organic material of this planet. 
> 
> I just wanted some pre-Klance and a princess carry my bad.


	17. Red Lion

Red’s paladin is a child, and he is all bruised and bloodied heart. Red knows it the moment he lays eyes on the boy begging for recognition. 

“Open up. It's me. Keith. Your buddy,” he feigns easygoing confidence, but Red can smell the insecurity that rolls off him in waves. When Red doesn’t respond to him, he masks his fear with anger and frustration, “It's me! Keith, your - I-am-your-paladin!” All hell breaks loose in Red’s temporary prison. The child tries again, “I'm bonding with you! Hey! Come on! We're connected!” He races around in desperation and declares, “You're not getting this lion!”

The airlock opens. 

The void sucks the child away from him.

His feelings are raw and wild, like an animal. 

Overwhelmed, Red can’t ignore this call and roars to life. 

 


	18. Leadership

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100

“Keith would be the worst leader of Voltron.”

Lance is right, and Keith knows it.

Fuck, the entire team knows it.

Keith isn’t sure what Shiro was thinking when he asked Keith to succeed him; it’s so far-fetched that the others doubt the conversation ever happened. 

Keith watches each paladin file into Black only to be rejected. 

And then it’s his turn. 

There’s something eerie about Black, and it makes him ache. 

Anxious, he prattles aloud to himself as he reaches for the controls. 

Something ignites in his belly, and his heart turns to lead in his chest. 

“Please no.” 


	19. Space Whale

It isn’t easy to mark the passage of time while riding a space whale through the quantum abyss; it’s even more challenging when reality is literally fragmenting around you. 

Keith doesn’t know if they’ve been hitchking for days or weeks anymore. He just knows he’s tired. He hasn’t slept well since he started living on a sentient creature with only his estranged mother and magical teleporting wolf for companions. 

And it’s not that he doesn’t trust Krolia. 

He’d seen enough in the visions to know that she loved him, and she only left to protect him. 

She hadn’t abandoned him, like so many had said over the years. 

But he doesn’t  _ know  _ her, and she doesn’t know him. 

A few flickering memories aren’t enough to glean real insight into a person’s life or character. 

And she still hadn’t asked what had happened to him after his dad died. 

He wasn’t too keen on offering it up either. 

If she isn’t wondering, she will be as soon as he has a nightmare. He’s overdue for one anyway. 

Sure, he’s got a lot of nightmare fuel, but he knows he talks in his sleep. It doesn’t take much to put the pieces together. Enough people had complained about it over the years, and he knew he had a tendency to beg, cry out, and even hit in his sleep during a shitty dream.

He tries to rest when Krolia treks out for supplies, and he dozes when she sleeps, but it’s taking a clear toll. 

Keith yawns, and the wolf licks his cheek in sympathy before curling up on his lap and blinking at him, like he’s trying to entice Keith into a nap. Keith ruffles his fur affectionately and leans back on his palms with a frustrated sigh.

It’s not like it’s a big deal; he just doesn’t like to talk about it. It’s over. It doesn’t matter. 

It’s been years since he got out of the system. He should be fine. He should be better. 

_ Fuck _ . 

He collapses flat on his back and stares at the stars and otherness floating above him. 

Somewhere a clock is ticking, right?

Whether he’s there to mark it or on a space whale, time goes on.

He glances at his mother through the fringe of his hair and wonders why he can’t.    
  



	20. Sword

“Shhh, shhh, baby, it’s okay,” Lance whispers thickly. Dirt and tears and snot mix on his face as he pets Keith’s soaked hair while the smaller teen shivers on his lap. “It’s gonna be okay, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”

The sword in Keith’s gut says otherwise, but his teeth are chattering too hard to mention it. 

Lance’s breath hitches on a sob, and he plucks up Keith’s limp hand. His fingers are as white as bone and icy. It barely feels like the same hand he’d been holding that very morning. He lifts the hand to his mouth and exhales shakily in a futile attempt to warm Keith up.

_ Shock _ , Lance’s mind supplies as he presses Keith’s palm to his lips.  _ His body is in shock.  _

They’re running out of time. 

_ If someone doesn’t get here soon _ , Lance worries as he studies the anguished look on his boyfriend’s pale face,  _ He... _

Keith makes an abrupt, choked sound that turns into a painful cough and ends with blood spattered on his chin. The movement aggravates his wound and exhausts him. He whimpers and his violet eyes are glassy with agony. His next tired blink stretches too long, and Lance strokes his thumb over Keith’s cheek and pleads, “C’mon, baby, stay with me. Shiro will be here soon. He’ll fix it.”

Fuck if Lance knows how this can be fixed, though. The puddle of blood is too large, and Keith’s skin is too cold. It’s been too long, and they’re too far away. 

Lance’s posture sags in defeat, and he slumps over Keith’s broken form. He’s helpless. All he can do is try to offer Keith some small comfort as he dies in his arms. 

Tormented by his errant thoughts and consumed by his efforts to keep Keith alert, he doesn’t immediately notice the rustle of brush over Keith’s labored breathing.

And then Shiro drops to his knees in the mud next to them. Their leader doesn’t hesitate. His hands are steady as he assesses the damage, and he stays calm in spite of being confronted by his fatally injured baby brother. The only thing that betrays his distress is the strain of his jaw. 

Lance sucks in a shuddering gasp, “Shiro, Shiro, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t... I didn’t... I’m so sorry. Please. I’m sorry.”

Shiro doesn’t pause. Instead, he says, “We’ve got to take the blade out to move him.” Lance nods, but he doesn’t know if he’s agreeing. “Hold him,” Shiro instructs and Lance grips Keith’s quavering frame more securely. “Sorry, Keith,” he apologizes. It’s the only warning he gives before he pulls out the sword. The noise is wet, and it will haunt Lance for the rest of his life. Shiro’s prosthetic hand glows to life, and he presses it into the gash without sparing the time to be gentle. Keith screams and writhes in Lance’s lap. “Flip him,” Shiro commands, and Lance maneuvers to expose the exit point. 

Shiro cauterizes it too, and Keith’s voice goes hoarse before he passes out.  

And then Shiro scoops up his brother and sprints back the way he came, and Lance merely stares as the rain plasters his hair to his face and washes Keith’s blood from his armor.

When the pair disappear into a thicket of trees, Lance rises to his unsteady legs and trails after them. Everything is going numb, and Lance feels detached from his own body as he steps further into the jungle.

The sword is left forgotten in the clearing. 

Lance thinks of grave markers and vomits. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith’s not dead, I promise.


	21. Pilot

“I’ll do it,” Keith murmurs to the sea of solemn faces, “I can do it.”

“What!?” Lance demands from the screen. “Keith, it’s suicide.”

“It has to be done,” Keith shrugs, but he still feels uneasy. The route’s difficulty is unprecedented and unsurpassed. No one has ever survived. “It’s our only chance.”

“I don’t care!” Lance slams the flat of his palm on the table. “Shiro, tell him he can’t go. We’ll figure out something else. There has to be a better way.”

Shiro’s silence is answer enough. He frowns on the split screen, but he doesn’t say anything. Allura puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Realizing he’s lost, Lance’s fear and frustration seizes its hold on him, “Keith, baby. No. Don’t. You don’t have to do this. Don’t do it. Baby, please.”

Keith averts his eyes, “I’m sorry, Lance.”

Desperate, Lance shouts, “No. Don’t fucking do this.”

“I love you,” Keith reminds him.

“Keith! Don’t!”

And Keith closes the connection.

Lance tries to reconnect the call, but it just rings endlessly. It’s futile. Lance bolts from the control room.

“Lance!”

“Number Three!”

He doesn’t bother to check whether they’re following him. He just runs until he comes to a dead end and then he slams his fist into the wall. It’s grounding. His knuckles bleed. He slumps to the ground and buries his head in his knees.

He knows, okay?

This is _war._

And they’re on the front lines for all intents and purposes.

Lance has cradled Keith’s battered body after a mission goes wrong, and Keith has done the same for him.

They’ve had more than their fair share of danger.

But this is so _stupid_.

Slav ran the numbers the previous day.

The likelihood of success is infinitesimal.

What’s the point?

A figure slouches down next to Lance and nudges him gently, “Hey.”

It’s Hunk, who has enough sense not to ask him if he’s all right. Instead, he sidles close enough that their thighs press together and wraps a warm arm around Lance’s shoulders.

Hunk draws in a breath beside him, “If anyone can do this, it’s Keith.”

Lance doesn’t respond.

“Look, Slav’s a genius, but he’s not always right,” Hunk continues. “He doesn’t know Keith, not like we do. He’s never even see Keith _fly_.” Lance nods. His throat is too tight, and he doesn’t trust his own voice right now. Hunk understands, so he takes it upon himself to remind Lance of the most fundamental piece of information, “Keith’s a great pilot, man.”

“The _best_ ,” Lance admits, “He’s the best pilot.”

But they don’t move until the Blade of Marmora calls with the mission report. 


	22. Krolia

Keith startles the first time he catches their reflection in a pool of water. The similarities of their shared features are striking even in the rippling surface. 

Keith blinks.

They have the same delicate bone structure, small, sloping noses, and slightly downturned mouths. 

Keith stares. 

It almost looks like someone had just retouched her image to create Keith’s. 

Scouting their surroundings, Krolia doesn’t notice his careful study of her countenance while he compares the shape of their eyes.

_ It’s weird _ , he decides. He has only known her for a handful of days, and he knows next-to-nothing about her. 

But their resemblance is uncanny and anyone would be able to discern they were related at first glance. 

He trails his fingers through the water to distort the image.

He frowns. 

When Krolia finishes her survey of the land and decides they’re in the clear, he nods in response. 

And then he follows the stranger that shares his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow there will be soft Klance <3
> 
> Also to everyone reading hi I’m sorry that this has been more prompt-y and less Whumptober-y


	23. Found Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I’ve been so excited for this chapter and then I got even busier and I just needed to finish it I’m sorryyyy please enjoy sleepy Keith, who you’ve probably figured out is my favorite, and good boyfriend Lance

Keith struggles to keep his eyes open as he directs Red into the correct hangar. 

The mission, which was only supposed to take a few hours, somehow became a three day excursion, and Keith had only managed to snag an hour or two a handful of times.

Sleep will have to wait, though; he’s fairly certain that he’s filthy. Nebu’s ecosystem reminded him of pond with plenty scum, and his skin still feels filmy even where it wasn’t covered in a thick layer of gunk.

He also needs to change the makeshift dressing that he’d hastily slapped onto his burned arm the previous day. 

_ Shower, sleep, food,  _ he decides as he gives Red’s controls a grateful pat and bids the Lion goodnight. 

It’s pretty early to go to bed, but he thinks the others will understand if he’s a bit tired and reclusive. 

Still, he should probably let someone know he’s back. Shiro worries, and Lance tends to be clingy at the best of times without adding a few days separation. 

Keith makes a quick detour to the common area, but it’s empty. He tries the kitchen, the dining room, the bridge, and even the training deck, but he doesn’t come across anyone until he just happens to pass a disheveled Pidge in the hallway, who says, “Oh, Keith, you’re back. S’cuse me.”

And then just continues on her merry way.

He furrows his brow and decides not to question it.

The promise of hot water is hard to ignore, and the sooner he’s free of grime the sooner he can sleep. 

He figures Pidge can tell the others he’s returned, so he decides to get on with his evening. 

When he gets to his room, he heads straight for the bathroom and makes quick work of cleaning himself up. He tugs on a soft pair of Lance’s too big pajama pants and a t-shirt before crawling between the sheets, which are blissfully fresh and smell like fabric softener.

He’s out as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

It’s a heavy sort of sleep, thick and cloying, which is pretty atypical for him. He normally wakes at the slightest sound or movement, and he often bolts up wide awake.

But this mission took its toll, and he barely moves when the door slides open and lets in a pale shaft of light. 

“Babe? You in here?” Lance asks. 

Keith tries to respond, but his mouth is cottony and the pillow muffles his voice. The bed dips when Lance settles next to him on the mattress, and a hand cards through his hair. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Pidge said she saw you more than an hour ago.” Keith grunts or whines or makes some sort of sound of acknowledgement. Fondly, Lance says, “You must be pretty tired, huh?”

In response, Keith shifts enough to get his arms around Lance’s waist and bury his nose in the fabric covering the other boy’s stomach. 

Lance laughs and presses a kiss to his brow, “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Keith definitely whines when Lance gently untangles himself from Keith’s limbs and takes his warmth with him. He pulls the blanket over his head to trap in the heat, and it doesn’t take him long to start drifting off again. This time it’s a much lighter doze, so he actually notices the sound of footsteps in the hall. Regardless, he ignores them in favor of burrowing beneath his pillow. 

But then a hand lifts it away, and he finds himself blinking sleepily at every inhabitant of the Castle. Hunk’s holding something that looks like a cake, Pidge, who has red paint in her hair, is showing off a banner, Coran and Allura have small sticks that create sparkly light, and Shiro’s got plates and forks. 

And then there’s Lance, who smiles softly and whispers, “Happy birthday, baby.”

Keith stares.

Birthday?

Is it his birthday? 

Probably. 

He hadn’t even thought about it. 

“We wanted to surprise you,” Allura grins and pulls him from his thoughts. She keeps her volume in check in spite of her excitement.

“Lance said you were pretty wiped though, man, so we thought we’d bring the party to you for now,” Hunk adds and gestures to the cake. “We can do the real party tomorrow.” 

And then he finds himself surrounded by the people who love him as they crowd the room and make use of anything that could serve as a chair while enjoying a space cake made for  _ him _ . 

When everyone finishes and leaves so he can get some sleep, Lance drags him bodily into his lap and presses pleased kisses to his hairline.

It’s quiet and perfect and so sweet. 

And it’s the best birthday he’s ever had. 

  
  



	24. Training

They send Pidge to look for Keith when he fails to turn up for breakfast.

Keith’s got a bad habit of missing meals, and it was her idea to develop a rotating system for the sake of efficiency. It was alphabetical, and Lance had gone to find his wayward boyfriend when he skipped dinner two days ago, which makes it her turn. 

The first place she looks is the training deck.

Lance would’ve known if Keith had overslept since they shared a room and a bed, which really only left one option.

Well, one likely option, she corrects. It’s not like the Castle hasn’t gone rogue and tried to shoot various inhabitants out of the airlock in the past, but Pidge has a security scan now that alerts her of any irregularities.

So. She’ll go ahead and cross that off her mental checklist titled  _ Keith Thinks He’s Houdini or Something, but He’s Just Ridiculous.  _

It needs a better name. Sue her. 

When she approaches the deck and hears the whir of machinery, she knows she made the right assessment.

“Keith!” she yells before she rounds the last corner, “We’re not going to save you any space Cocoa Puffs this time!”

There’s no response, but she isn’t surprised. Keith’s probably preoccupied by a gladiator or bots or some combination of the two. 

Pidge pushes the door open with a snide comment on her lips that tapers off when her eyes land on the room’s sole occupant.

_ Shit,  _ her stomach drops.  _ Oh, shit. _

“End training simulation!” she shouts, and the gladiator finally stops its unopposed onslaught.

And Keith doesn’t move from his place on the floor.

Pidge books it across the room and grabs his shoulders to shake him, “Keith! You motherfucker! Wake up!”

There are bruises blossoming on every patch of exposed skin, and she wonders how long ago he passed out.

But she’s more worried about the severe pallor of his complexion, the sweat that mats his hair to his face, and the dangerous heat that rolls off him in waves. 

He’s  _ sick _ . 

This fucking stupid bastard is fucking  _ sick _ and fucking training.

_ What the actual fuck, Keith _ , she thinks. 

“You fucking moron,” Pidge swears as she takes his fluttering pulse. She pries open one of his eyelids, and he flinches away. His pupils are sluggish, but responsive. She keeps up a litany of invectives as she assesses his condition, and then she decides she’s out of her depth and even Keith’s skinny ass is too heavy for her to safely haul off to medical. 

And she’s sure as fuck not leaving him alone because if he woke up alone, he’d probably try to go on to the next level because he’s apparently _that_ _fucking stupid._

She calls out, “Intercom Override Code  _ KPHn00b _ \- Visual Override Password  _ HaHaSuckItLance.”  _

Within a tick, a two-way holoscreen opens, and she gets a good look at the unsuspecting diners. Shiro is the first to notice the change, and he blanches so thoroughly it puts his name to shame.

“Hey,” she greets flatly. “Help.”

And then there’s a flurry of movement as everyone drops everything and races away from the table. 

Pidge closes the link with another auditory command.

And then she looks at Keith, whose head she shifted off the ground and into her lap, and she frowns, “Idiot.”

But even she knows there’s no real bite to it. 

  
  



	25. “I guess I’ve got some walls up.”

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” Allura demands with tears in her iridescent eyes. Her face is contorted in fury and pain, and her voice shakes with the force of her feelings. 

Keith stares and tries to ignore the fine trembling that’s crawling up his body since he’s long given up fighting it off.

Frustrated by his silence, Allura continues her angry diatribe, “If you’d been here, like you’re supposed to be here, this wouldn’t have happened!”

Keith bites his tongue. 

Fuck. 

“You’re the Paladin of the Black Lion! You’re the de facto leader, Keith! You can’t just abandon us to fight alone. People get hurt. Pidge got hurt, and Hunk did too!”

He’s quiet.

“Answer me!”

He doesn’t.

“Say something!”

What can he say? 

“What were you  _ thinking _ ?”

Finally, Coran puts a hand on her arm, and she crumples in on herself like her strings had been cut. She presses her face into his shoulder and sobs. 

Keith doesn’t blame her. From the sound of it, the entire team had nearly died, and it would’ve taken any hope of freeing the galaxy from the Galra Empire’s reign with it. 

Allura’s lost so much, and today she almost lost everything she had left. 

Coran leads her away, and then Lance and he are the only conscious beings left in the infirmary. 

Lance’s mouth is a firm line, “I’ve tried to stick up for you, man, but you’re giving me nothing.”

Keith shrugs. 

The soft blue lights play over Lance’s hair as he frowns and shifts his posture into something more defensive, “Keith, you’ve gotta talk to me. I can’t cover for you. I can’t vouch for you. I have no idea what’s going on with you, and you never tell me anything.”

Keith knows Lance is right, but he doesn’t know how to tell him that he got a lead on his mother’s whereabouts; he doesn’t know how to say that he’s still looking for her, and he put all their lives on the line to find a stranger. 

Lance’s face finally softens, “You can’t wall everyone out, Keith. We’re here for you, but you’ve got to trust us.”

He does trust them, but he can’t trust himself.

He ruins everything.

It’s safer this way.

So he keeps his mouth shut and lays another row of brick. 


	26. Shiro

_ I will never give up on you. _

Keith studies the endless sky. Vast, it stretches before him like velvet, and it’s only interrupted by a dusting of shimmering stars. 

Keith stares until his vision blurs. 

The combination of tears and dirt makes his eyes sting. They drip down his cheeks in muddy cracks. 

He is caked in desert. 

It’s in his hair, his nose, his eyelashes, and every wrinkle of skin.

He’s trying.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been out here alone, but he knows that it’s getting to him.

And he wants to throw in the metaphorical towel. 

He’s so tired.

And he misses Shiro, who believed in him; Shiro, who became his brother; Shiro, who loved him.

He lets himself have this moment, but he’ll keep going for Shiro. 

_ But more importantly you can’t give up on yourself. _


	27. (Two) Black Paladins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So tomorrow’s prompt is “I’m fine” in questions, I think.... but I don’t remember if that’s from a specific scene in the series and won’t have the access to find out... so... will probably go in a random direction 
> 
> Also for some reason this fight is what stuck out to me for this prompt

“And I should’ve abandoned you like your parents did.”

The monster with Shiro’s face sneers at him, and his gaze is malicious and predatory. Everything about his posture, mannerisms, countenance, it’s all wrong. 

Keith spent most of his life fighting, but he didn’t fight for relationships. 

Because he never let himself find out if there was anything worth fighting for. 

Shiro was the first person to fight for _him,_ andthe first break through to him. 

This caricature tells him that he’s worthless, broken. The facsimile disparages him, but Keith will fight. 

He will fight for Shiro because he’s worth it. 

Resolute, he gets to his feet. 

“I’m not leaving here without you.” 

  
  



	28. “I’m Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5+1   
> Five times Keith said he was fine, and one time he didn’t. 
> 
> — A very hastily written 5+1

 

One - 

Keith scrapes his knees when he trips. 

The wayward root cut through the broken concrete, and he wasn’t really watching where he was going.

He hits the ground with enough force to tear his jeans, and the blood that wells up immediately stains the fabric.

It stings, and his eyes water. 

“Keith!” Keith looks up, and his dad is hurrying toward him with a worried expression. “What happened? You okay, kiddo?”

Keith sniffs and scrubs his sleeve over his face. His voice wavers, but he answers, “M’fine.” 

 

Two - 

“You have to stop running away, Keith,” Ms. Lewis says in lieu of a greeting. She drops a blanket onto his shoulders before she settles next to him on the rubble. The sun sets on the horizon, and the warm light catches on the locks of her red hair. “I mean it. This is the last time.”

The social worker pulls a thermos of coffee and two paper cups out of her purse. She adds three sugars to his drink and stirs it before she puts two packets into her own. 

Keith takes a grateful sip, and it warms him from the inside out. 

She holds her cup out to him, “Cheers. We’re spending all the time that you need here today, and then you’re not going to take off to come back here again.” 

“Okay,” Keith agrees. It’s a fair deal, and he’s already pulled this stunt a dozen times. 

“Good.” She studies him pensively, “You all right?”

Keith stalls his response with another drink of coffee, “I’m fine.” 

 

Three - 

The teacher asks him to stay after class, and the other kids stare as they leave for their art class. 

Keith tries to keep his face carefully blank, but he knows that they can see the angry set of his jaw.

_ Good _ , he thinks,  _ It’s better that way.  _

When they clear the room, the Ms. Brown sits down across from him. 

“Keith,” she begins gently. “Your eye looks pretty bad.”

He knows. 

Well, he knows now. 

He didn’t get a chance to look at it this morning while he got himself ready. He didn’t realize why people were whispering about him at breakfast until he went into the bathroom.

I mean, it was tender, but he didn’t realize that the skin around his right eye was completely blackened and his sclera was bloodshot.

His foster father must’ve hit him harder than he realized. 

“Can I ask what happened?” Ms. Brown continues in a soft tone. She’s very young, but she’s a good teacher. She’s nice and genuinely seems to like her job and the children in her classroom. He figures she might be trying to help him, but he learned two schools ago that calls to CPS just make things worse.

A heart in the right place isn’t enough. 

“I got in a fight,” Keith mutters. He glances away, but he still sees her brow furrow. She doesn’t believe him, but she doesn’t press. 

Instead she asks, “Are you okay?”

And he answers, “I’m fine.” 

 

Four -

The first time it happens to him he thinks he’s dying. 

His heart raced, and he couldn’t suck enough air into his lungs. Everything hurt. He was sweaty and shaky, and his legs didn’t want to cooperate. 

Unsteadily, he’d crept out the back door in the middle of the night and hidden beneath the porch, like his first foster family’s dog had done when it was hit by a car. 

When his foster mother found him, she slapped him in the face and told him to stop sniveling.

“I’ll give you something to cry about,” she warned. 

Physically and mentally, Keith gets better at hiding.

But he doesn’t succeed today.

Another kid in his class, Carmen Diaz, happens to spot him sneaking behind the school, and she follows him with curious eyes, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he croaks in a rough voice. 

It sounds like a lie to his own ears. 

He hops the fence and skips the rest of the day to make sure he won’t be caught again. 

 

Five -

 

“What the fuck is your problem, Keith? You can’t just walk away when someone is talking to you!” Lance shouts, but Keith just moves faster. Undeterred, Lance runs to catch up to him. He grabs Keith by the shoulder and spins him to around to face him. 

And then all the fight goes out of him.

Because Keith is  _ crying.  _

_ “ _ Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Keith wrenches himself free of Lance’s grip and growls, “I’m fine.” 

“You’re not...”

“Leave me alone, Lance!”

And then Keith, who is still wearing his BoM armor and covered in the standard residue of battle, ducks into his room before Lance can stop him. 

 

And... 

 

“Keith? You okay?” Lance’s voice echoes in the quiet, cavernous Lion, but Keith doesn’t answer. He can’t answer. The words are stuck his mouth, and he bites his lip to stifle the pathetic sounds that are trying to escape in place of actual phrases. Frustrated, he tugs at the ends of his hair and squeezes his eyes shut. 

He hopes Lance gives up. 

He doesn’t want to be found right now. 

_ Some leader of Voltron, _ he thinks balefully. He can’t even keep his own shit together; how could he manage to spearhead the universe’s last hope? 

Fuck, everyone is always right about him. 

He presses his hands against his eyes, and in the darkness he can see Shiro,  _ no _ , not Shiro, the  _ clone _ , knocking him to the ground, and he can feel the heat of the weapon searing the skin of his face and scarring him. He thinks of the words exchanged, and he remembers risking it all.

He can’t sleep.

He’s tired. 

He can’t afford to be any of these things right now. “Keith?” 

Shit, Lance is still here? 

“Oh,” Lance whispers, and it’s too close. “Oh, hey, you okay?”

Keith opens his eyes, and they meet Lance’s concerned blue gaze. 

His expression is open and supportive, and he extends a hand to help Keith out of the cramped position he’d chosen when he started to break down. 

He takes a breath to steady himself.

_ I’m fine.  _

Fuck. 

It’s not what he says.

Instead, all he manages is a shaky, watery, “No.” 

And then Lance is everywhere. 

Warm arms  envelope him in a hug, and a hand presses his head into his chest. 

Keith shudders and sobs.

And Lance doesn’t let go. 

 


	29. Black Lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50 words. I did not think this was gonna happen today. It’s 10:40 PM in my time zone, so it counts lol

_ Empty _ .

The Black Lion is impossibly empty, and he doesn’t  _ understand _ .

There is no pilot, no life, no Shiro.

It doesn’t make sense.

Something inside Keith cracks into fragmented pieces, and he doesn’t think he can put himself back together again. 

He feels hollowed out, like a husk.

He feels empty. 

 


	30. Spacecraft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50 word Drabble

Krolia looks between the tiny baby in her arms and the repaired spacecraft.

Her son’s warm weight is reassuring, and she runs a gentle knuckle down the soft fat of his cheek. Violet eyes blink up at her curiously as he huffs a laugh. 

“I love you, Keith,” she whispers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol 10:28 PM


	31. Free Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who’s read, liked, or commented. I couldn’t have managed 31 days of writing without you. 
> 
> Thanks to koganewest and callaedae3 for the challenge/prompts. 
> 
> And a special shout out to asexual_phangirl. You fucking rock, and I don’t even know how to begin to tell you how much reading your comments and feedback has meant to me. I seriously looked forward to them with each new chapter, and they made me so happy. Thank you.

Shivering, Keith wraps his arms around himself in an ineffective bid for warmth. His black t-shirt offers little respite, and the team still has several hours before they’re scheduled to return to the ship. 

Fayori III can only be reached under certain conditions, and their window to leave the planet’s gravitational pull draws closer with each passing minute. 

Regardless, they’d lingered after they ended the Galra’s occupation because the villages were in shambles, and they couldn’t just leave the people to struggle alone for three more phoebs.

They’d made a lot of progress in a short amount of time. Shiro and Allura muscled together a number of sturdy structures to provide housing, Pidge and Hunk took a crack at their failing infrastructure, and Keith and Lance ferried supplies from the Castle to the planet’s surface while Coran tended to the wounded and sick. 

Lance and he spent most of the day setting up rations and doling out needed goods to the surviving population. They still had a ways to go, but Keith had to slip away and take a break.

He’s not tired, really, but the cold makes his muscles stiff and his fingers uncooperative. He cups his hands over his mouth and blows hot air onto them, but it doesn’t alleviate the pins and needles feeling. 

He heaves a frustrated sigh. 

He tries everything he can think of to get himself back into working condition, but each method fails. He bounces on his toes, he tries to exert himself further, and he shoves his arms into the torso of his shirt and curls up to preserve heat. 

Keith squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will the icy feelings from his bones.

And then it  _ works _ . 

Blinking, Keith’s mouth drops open in surprise, and he sits up. The slight resistance tells him he’s not alone, and he realizes that his back is pressed to someone else’s chest. 

He inhales. 

_ Lance.  _

When he’s almost upright, Lance wraps his jacket more fully around the both of them and zips Keith up inside of it. 

“What’re you...?” 

“You’re cold, right?” Lance interrupts his question. “I saw you give your jacket to that little Fayori girl.” 

“She didn’t have one,” Keith responds. It’s both defensive and automatic, and it makes Lance laugh. It’s a low rumble in the other teen’s chest, and the vibrations are soothing. Incrementally, Keith relaxes in Lance’s secure hold, and Lance leans forward and presses their cheeks together.

“ _ Mierda _ , Keith, you’re skin is freezing,” Lance scolds.

“M’fine,” Keith shrugs off his concern. “We’re not going to be out here much longer anyway.” 

Lance snorts, and Keith imagines he’s rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything until Keith stops shaking in his grip, “You’re something else, Mullet.”

Keith doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t comment. When Lance is satisfied that Keith’s internal temperature has returned to an acceptable level, he levers them both up and unzips his coat. Keith stumbles free and chides himself for immediately missing their previous position. 

But then he’s distracted because Lance is draping a heavy fabric on his shoulders and tugging his arms through the sleeves. Keith tries to protest when he realizes that Lance is no longer wearing his own coat, but Lance cuts him off, “It’s fine. I’ve got on a lot more layers than you.” 

Keith glances at the other teen suspiciously and discovers that it’s true. Lance’s wardrobe has evolved steadily over their time in space. Keith, on the other hand, is now  _ down _ an article of clothing. Lance pulls him from his train of thought when he pulls the hood over Keith’s ears and tucks his hair back, “There.”

And somehow Lance is so close that their mouths are a scant breath apart.

They both flush. 

“I... thanks,” Keith whispers. 

It sounds a little shy, but he’ll deny it if anyone says as much. 

“Uh,” Lance mumbles, “Um, it’s nothing?” He gets the courage to lift his blue eyes to meet Keith’s violet, “I mean, someone’s gotta keep an eye out for you. I... I mean, I just want... you... I just want you to be okay... and...” 

Lance trails off, so Keith chases his words and punctuates his sentence with his own lips.

And then there are arms and ribs and chests and fingers in hair and soft sounds, and the feeling of their mouths pressed together in the softest kiss. 

And Keith decides he can and will make it through anything if there are moments like this waiting for him. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t even know what happened here. I guess I wanted parallels to the beginning (though I wish I’d done more with tying in the title here - more than just Keith can/will persevere). And I wanted to show that Keith has someone who’s looking out for him and won’t let him self-sacrifice himself to death. 
> 
> Btw - I’ll be replying to comments soon! Now that I’m not focused on making the daily goal, I’ll have time to respond!! 
> 
> Title comes from the song “The Greatest” by Sia. I liked it for Keith for like a million reasons. Because it’s about pushing through and not giving up. And the repition of the words “I’m alive” (esp. bc chapter 1 was naxzela and the final line in it) and Kendrick Lamar’s part and yeah. 
> 
> Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr:  
> sunflower-le-tournesol
> 
>  
> 
> Why do I post from my phone oh my goshhhh

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The flame that remains](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16543814) by [Koiffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koiffee/pseuds/Koiffee)




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